


CGL's Touhou Oneshot Collection

by ColdGoldLazarus



Category: Touhou Project
Genre: Alternate Universe - Magical Girls, Crack Relationships, F/F, Fluff and Crack, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, One Shot Collection, Plot Bunnies - Freeform, Random & Short, Some Serious Stuff Too
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-22
Updated: 2018-03-25
Packaged: 2019-04-06 09:28:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,295
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14053950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ColdGoldLazarus/pseuds/ColdGoldLazarus
Summary: Gensokyo's a strange and intriguing place, full of myriad possibilities...





	1. An Unexpected Request (Part 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Keine is used to Aya's uniquely frustrating behavior, but another Tengu's visit causes her to reconsider things she'd taken for granted.

** An Unexpected Request (Part 1) **

* * *

 

Keine Kamishirasawa steepled her fingers as her guest took a seat, doing her best not to betray the discomfort she felt. It wasn’t the same sort of discomfort she felt facing a powerful gap youkai or the queen of the netherworld during an otherwise ordinary trip to the shrine. Nor was it the sort of discomfort of encountering a lesser youkai who would still be more than happy to devour her or her students, given the chance. But it was discomfort nonetheless, for while considerably less powerful than the former or inclined to random acts of violence than the latter, the Crow Tengu sitting opposite her could still level a not-insignificant portion of the village with a tornado, if so provoked. Unlike the usual suspect, Keine wasn’t nearly familiar enough with this one to know how best to avert such a possibility; and that was a distinctly unpleasant feeling.

Fortunately, this ‘Hatate’ seemed fairly laid-back. “So you know Aya, right? Shameimaru?” She began.

“Yes, we are… acquainted,” Keine began, carefully neutral. She had no clue how this girl related with the infamous pest. “Am I to assume you are as well?

“Meh, for better or for worse,” Hatate shrugged. “She’s my comrade, so I can’t speak too kindly of her, but as my personal rival, she’s given me a lot to learn from.” Keine raised an eyebrow at that; the Tengu approach to cooperation was always a source of confusion for her. Hatate simply leaned forward and grinned a bit, expression sharp but tone strangely fond. “But one thing she may accidentally teach me is something I know she’ll never do herself.”

“Oh?” Despite herself, Keine had to admit she was interested in where this was leading. “And how might she do that?”

Hatate settled back again, but raised one finger as if dictating, as she began her story. “Alright, so yesterday Aya dropped in on me, and she never does that, you know? Always busy hunting stories herself, so we don’t actually talk directly all that often - I’ve seen her around, and I’m sure she’s seen me…”

Keine’s impatience must have slipped through, because the dark-haired girl laughed nervously and ended her tangent. “Point is, she dropped in on me yesterday, and was complaining about you. Well, a whole bunch of people, like that Shrine Maiden, the ghost girl, the moon rabbit… She was really upset at everyone calling her paper trash, but you came up in particular. Sounds like you apparently said something about her 'lacking respect for the rules of journalistic ethics,' or something like that?”

Keine wasn’t sure whether to be more surprised that the obnoxious reporter had become so legitimately upset over these comments (even if they were fully deserved) or that she felt a little bad about making them (even if she wouldn’t take it back) in the first place. Either way, she had no clue where Hatate was going with this now, but she couldn’t escape a mounting sense of dread. “Yes, I do recall saying something along those lines,” she finally admitted.

“I see,” Hatate nodded to herself, before glancing back up at the teacher. “She said she’d never even heard of such nonsense before. So I did some digging. Well, thoughtography, mainly, but it got me what I needed. The Tengu used to have a ‘Code of Integrity,’ that sounds like it did the same thing, but a little after Gensokyo was founded, the Tenma at the time decided to set it aside as it was deemed too restrictive on the papers.”

That would certainly explain some things. If it was true, anyway; though this Tengu seemed strangely trustworthy, past experiences made the teacher still leery of taking her word at face value. Keine made a mental note to check this history for herself during the next full moon. “So why are you telling me this?”

“Because one thing I couldn’t find,” Hatate admitted sheepishly, “not without getting into places well above my rank, was the actual contents of the Code. And I thought, since you’re the one who brought it up in the first place, and given your whole… thing, you know, with history… that you could maybe help find it?” Her voice trailed off questioningly, and she was clearly struggling to suppress her embarrassment.

Keine wasn’t sure how to react at this point. This girl was _very_ different from Aya, for better or for worse. Deciding to spare the Tengu, she didn’t acknowledge the awkward delivery of the request, simply leaning back with an appraising gaze. “And what, exactly, do you intend to do with this knowledge?” Not that she was sure there was any way to turn an understanding of ethics to wicked use, but it didn’t hurt to be safe.

Hatate put a finger to her chin, looking to one side as she considered how to explain herself. “Well, to make my newspaper better, I guess. I don’t know; it sounded like a lot of what the Code was about was telling reporters _not_ to do things, but this whole integrity thing sounds pretty important, so I thought I’d give it a try.” Her thoughtful expression turned into a mischievous smirk. “And if it _does_ help, I can totally rub it in Aya’s face!”

Keine suppressed a sigh; she should have expected this answer, but it was still something of a disappointment.

 _On the other hand,_ spoke a different part of her mind, one that spoke in the low monotone of a certain fiery friend of hers, _I was going to look into this on my own anyway, right? Ev_ _en if her reasons are selfish, maybe it’s better this way. I’m not necessarily overstepping my bounds by helping her. I’m just digging up some information for an acquaintance; what she does with it is up to her. And if the Tengu… well, I shouldn’t get ahead of myself. Let’s just see what happens._

 _And besides,_ she thought wryly, _this is all dependent on if I can even find what she’s looking for in the first place._ Her power over history gave her access to a lot of hidden and forgotten knowledge, but it still had its limits.

Mind made up, she met the Tengu’s gaze again, smiling slightly. “Well, Ms. Himekaidou, I can’t promise anything useful, but let me see what I can do. I’ll contact you after the next full moon and tell you what I’ve found.” Perhaps nothing would come of this, but the teacher had a gut feeling that interesting times lay ahead...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This came about after a conversation on the Touhou reddit about canon vs. fanon portrayals led me to look up all the spellcard comments from Aya and Hatate in Double Spoiler. I was disappointed to learn that Aya's yellow journalism wasn't as exaggerated by the fandom as I thought, and surprised to learn that Hatate had a bit more of a positive attitude than she's typically portrayed with. Also interesting was how Tengu seem to treat the concept of 'comrade' very differently than we do. Somehow, one thing led to another after that, and this became the result. Hope you enjoy; I may follow up on it later.


	2. Magical Girl Hakurei Maidenly (AKA Sailor Gensokyo, AKA The Obligatory Magical Girl AU)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It had to happen eventually.

Aya Shameimaru glanced about the roof in bemusement, before looking back at the note that had brought her here in the first place. The editor of the school newspaper was used to vague ultimatums from some of the more aggressive students, but this letter contained not the typical misspelled threat or passive-aggressive warning; rather, written in fine cursive was a request for a meeting up on the roof after classes ended. From a ‘secret admirer,’ and signed with a heart, no less! Though she naturally didn’t take it at face value, suspecting a trap of some variety, her curiosity (and the possibility, however small, that there was actually someone who felt that way about her) meant there was no passing up this invitation.

Well, here she was now, and there was indeed no secret admirer. Instead, five other girls stood around the edges, awkwardly avoiding meeting eyes with anyone else. Most of them, anyway.

The one exception was Marisa Kirisame, lounging by the air conditioner blocks like she owned the place. Wearing black jeans and a black leather jacket over a simple white T-shirt, she alone seemed at ease here; naturally so as it was her long-established hangout spot. That, along with the role of the school’s top delinquent, which she had inherited from the infamous and now-graduated hellion Mima. The blonde was ever-cheerful in her kleptomania and flagrant disregard for the rules, (it was even rumored she had a motorcycle, though even Aya had been unable to confirm or deny the existence of such) yet somehow she also had one of the best grade-point averages in the school. Aya had no clue where she found the time to study, and it was one of many secrets around the school she’d dedicated herself to unveiling some day.

Standing in an upright, yet somehow relaxed pose, the sole Senior present was Sakuya Izayoi. She wore a soft blue pinstripe suit with a bowtie, looking more ready to attend a business meeting than a high school. Ever-mysterious and reclusive, she was always surrounded by rumors and hearsay. The most popular claims were that she had some connection to the big red mansion over by the lake, that she worked at a maid cafe on the weekends, that she wore pads to bulk up her chest a bit, that she had a collection of knives in her locker, and that she could be utterly terrifying when angered. Aya had successfully disproven the third one, (not that it stopped people from wondering) and discovered the authenticity of the last shortly afterward. Needless to say, she’d opted to put her investigation on hold for now, after that encounter.

Next was Sanae Kochiya, a green-haired sophomore who had just moved here recently. Aya had made a point to look into her, but while not as blatantly mysterious as Sakuya, she had also proven surprisingly elusive. She tended to keep to herself and keep her head down, got decent but not noteworthy grades, and was frequently seen writing or doodling into a notebook that seemed to vanish into thin air the rest of the time, confounding Aya’s best efforts to gain access. This very moment she had it out, holding it upright to block her view, though she didn’t seem to be writing.

What the journalist _had_ managed to dig up was rather interesting indeed, though of a private nature such that she’d opted to leave it out of her paper for a change. The girl’s adoptive parents consisted of Kanako Yasaka, the powerful CEO of Moriya Industries, and her stay-at-home wife Suwako, though it was the latter who seemed to actually wear the pants in the relationship. Sanae’s original parentage was unknown, though it was debatable if it even mattered; she seemed plenty happy with the ones she had.

Sitting down with her chin resting upon her knees, Reisen Udongein Inaba looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here. She was an interesting one; bearing all the hallmarks of the classic military brat, except for the attitude. She managed to work olive camo somewhere into every outfit she wore, (today it was her shirt, under a black suit jacket and a lavender pleated skirt, the latter matching the shade of her hair) honored the flag during school ceremonies with unmatched perfection, went to a nearby shooting range after school on a frequent basis, and by Aya’s estimation, she was likely to move away anywhere between two to fourteen months from now.

Despite all of that, though, she was as timid and clumsy as they came, and plagued with horrible luck to boot. The result was an ever-stressed girl who flinched at her own shadow, and though she would have otherwise looked quite imposing and elegant, one couldn’t help but pity her instead. Even her impressive height ultimately worked against her, as she seemed to run afoul of low-clearance doorways with a frequency that defied probability.

The last girl was similar in disposition, though in some ways more fortunate than her upperclassman, and in other ways less so. A small and sickly girl, it was frequently joked that Youmu Konpaku was half-dead already, though never directly to her face. Given her silver hair and eternally pale skin, Aya had to admit she _did_ have a rather ghostly visage, but the reporter couldn’t find the comparison as amusing as the rest of the student body did. Her traditional snooping had led her to discover that Youmu was the unlikely survivor of a severe terminal disease in her early childhood, and her single father, Youki Konpaku, had been forced to take a lifelong contract to get the money to save his daughter’s life. The reclusive and rich woman he worked as the gardener for, Yuyuko, at least seemed to treat them well, but something about the dynamic didn’t quite sit right with Aya.

But for what it was worth, whether or not she was aware how close she’d come to losing her life, Youmu at least seemed determined to live as much as possible now. Despite her lingering weakness, she refused to let it stop her from taking rather demanding fencing lessons, being one of the school’s other top academic performers, and together with Hong Meiling, she made up exactly one half of the botany club. Despite appearing on the surface to be as skittish as Reisen, she seemed to have an inner core of determination, even perfectionism, that Aya couldn’t help but respect.

So that was them. Six girls, standing on the school roof, awkwardly avoiding looking at each other, and all clutching similar shady notes. Or in Sakuya’s case, gazing away in aloofness, or in Marisa’s case, grinning at them as if she knew something they did not. (The fact she also had a note tucked into the chest pocket of her jacket implied she knew as little as anyone else.) It didn’t look like anybody was going to speak up, though, so it was down to Aya to start the conversation. “So… any clue what this is abou-”

“HEY!” Someone suddenly shouted from the stairwell. “What’s the big idea here?” It appeared the assembly wasn’t over yet; two more girls had just arrived. Wearing a bright blue tank-top and shorts that seemed rather out-of-season with the crisp autumn air, the one in front -and the one who had just spoken- was Cirno, a freshman and the most classic and tragic victim of Eighth-Grader Syndrome Aya had ever seen in her life. Her surname remained a mystery as of yet; it seemed she’d written down ‘Dragonsbane’ in all her forms, which the school naturally refused to acknowledge, so just ‘Cirno’ it was.

Between that and the blustery overconfidence that had led her to get into half a dozen fights in her first week of attendance, she’d been quickly and irrevocably labeled as an idiot in the eyes of the public, which only spurred her on to greater lengths to prove herself. Surprisingly, she actually got pretty decent grades, and was a natural in chemistry class. Aya wondered if she had any connection to Whiterock Cryogenic Labs, but hadn’t looked into it too closely as of yet. Either way, her school career promised to be eventful and amusing to bear witness to.

Finally, stepping out behind the freshman with a tense expression and darting gaze, came Reimu Hakurei, glancing about as if expecting an ambush from those already present. Aya couldn’t blame her; as the school’s resident infamous bully-hunter, the brunette in red had made a lot of enemies; this likely wasn’t the first time she’d been lured into a trap under false pretenses.

It was an unfortunate story, really. Aya had experienced her calmer, kind side firsthand, (after being saved from someone irate at a particularly revealing story she’d published) but the broader student body seemed to fear the girl, failing to make a distinction between her and those who warranted her vigilante wrath. Certainly she had anger issues, but it felt like people refused to look past that and realize she was otherwise a fairly ordinary girl. She could stumble into class covered in bruises from someone’s retribution, but very few people were willing to approach her, out of irrational fear she’d turn on them as well. (Only Marisa, and on a couple occasions Aya herself, had offered any aid.)

Surprisingly enough, even though she’d marked the first half of her freshman year by foiling Mima at every turn, the latter half of the year had seen her becoming reluctant acquaintances with the delinquent’s gang, and her unlikely friendship with Marisa persisted to this day.

“What’s this about?” Reimu asked tersely, holding out her own note as if to ward off the others. “What are you all up to?” If anything, she seemed surprised to see mostly friendly or neutral faces, rather than the usual crowd she tended to feud with.

Aya held up her own note, and indicated the ones the others held. “I don’t know any more than you do. Evidently _someone_ wanted us all up here, but who and why have yet to be discovered. I was hoping you could offer some insight?” She found herself unconsciously slipping into interviewer mode, ready to wring every possible hint she could out of the others and solve this mystery herself.

“Ah, so you’re all here. Excellent!” For better or for worse, though, the mystery chose this moment to deny her a proper investigation, as a ninth and final person arrived on the scene. Stepping out from behind the air conditioner blocks (Marisa jumped up as if burned) was an unfamiliar adult woman, with long blonde hair and an unsettling smirk. Aya quickly, quietly pulled her phone out of her skirt pocket, ready to dial the police at any moment.

“You can relax, there,” the woman said, looking straight at Aya. “I know how this must look, but I assure you nothing… untoward will occur.” Strangely, everyone else seemed to relax at her words, but even as she put her phone away, Aya kept her guard up. This whole situation was too blatantly fishy to afford the stranger any trust.

“Now, what I am about to tell you will be hard to believe, but I must ask you to trust me. There is something _wrong_ in this city. An old friend of mine has turned to wicked ends, and will soon begin corrupting the students one-by-one, turning them into monsters.”

Everyone exchanged confused glances at this; Cirno scratched her head, and even Sakuya raised an eyebrow at this. “Like, metaphorical monsters,” Sanae ventured, “Or _actual_ monsters, like with claws and stuff?”

“The latter, my dear,” the woman said with a chuckle. “The reason I have gathered you eight here, is because you are the only ones who can stop this. How would you like to become magical girls?”

If everyone was confused before, now their reactions diverged. Reimu was staring at the woman as one would gaze upon a particularly befuddling species of insect, and Sakuya’s eyebrow had vanished into her silvery bangs. Reisen was shaking with silent incredulous laughter, while Marisa had a hand to her chin as if seriously considering the offer. Cirno stuck out her tongue, “Eww, too girly,” but Sanae looked more animated than she’d been all semester, stars in her eyes and wearing a big dopey grin.

Youmu looked down at her lap, before turning back to the stranger with a skeptical glare. “Alright, that was a good one, but what’s this really about?” Aya shared her sentiment.

But the blonde woman seemed unrepentant. “I understand it sounds fantastical now, but the truth will show itself soon enough. If you change your mind, come here again; I’ll be waiting.”

Aya had to wonder if this woman was seriously going to wait up on the school roof for days, but with the police in mind, another question presented itself. “Who even _are_ you?”

She grinned again, a distinctly sinister grin that nobody else seemed to notice, but which chilled the young journalist to the bone. “Who am I?” She said, “I am the one standing between the hidden and the known, the darkness and the light. My name… is Okina Matara.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Being 2hu is suffering.
> 
> Initially I was going to go with Reimu as the POV character for this, but then I decided to swap to Aya given her unique perspective and insight on everyone else. Plus, given the twist I'm going with here, she seemed like a more suitable foil. (The main character would still be Reimu, though.) I have ideas for a full story here, (take a guess who the antagonist Okina refers to would be) but I'm holding off for now, as my PC98 rewrite is still the main priority.


End file.
